


The Master of Death

by Inutoaluv



Category: Final Space (Cartoon)
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Assassins & Hitmen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 17:50:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inutoaluv/pseuds/Inutoaluv
Summary: In the dead of night, someone creeps into the Cato home, intending to kill. Just an average night for General Avocato.





	The Master of Death

**Author's Note:**

> I thank lightning_bird for the idea. I also thank askj-221rickandfriends on Tumblr for the name. Thanks, guys!  
Hope y'all enjoy!

Avocato breathed softly in his sleep. Under his pillow was a laser gun. He placed it there every night. As Second in Command to the Lord Commander, Master of Death, it had become vital for him to do so.

Down the hall, his son, Little Cato, had been tucked into bed five hours ago. The midnight silence consisted of light patters of rain outside, the hustle of the planet's occupants outside, and the hum of their home. For Tera Con Prime, it was peaceful. This was their normal.

Downstairs, a quiet plinking sound interrupts the silence. The sound is coming from the locked door. It is too quiet to carry to the sleeping inhabitants. The door clicks and swings open.

In the doorway stands a man who is six feet and six inches tall. He has grey skin, a single eye, and the head of a hammerhead shark. He is wearing an all black jumpsuit. This man is a hired assassin.

The assassin enters the house and heads up the stairs. He checks the rooms. He finds Little Cato's. He enters the room.

The assassin looks around. He frowns at the childish decor. He approaches the bed. He mutters a swear as he sees the bed's occupant.

He leaves the room quietly and checks the next one. In the darkness, he sees decor he was expecting. This is the room he had been looking for. He approaches the bed.

The assassin smirks, seeing his intended target. He draws a dagger from his boot. He raises it up. As he plunges it down, his target rolls to the side, drawing his gun.

Avocato sits up, aiming at the intruder. “Who hired you?”

The assassin narrows his eye at his target. “Why should I tell you? You're just going to kill me anyway.”

“True, but I'll consider granting you mercy if you tell me who hired you.” Avocato persuades.

The assassin sneers and lunges at Avocato. Avocato grabs the assassin's arm and twists it. Avocato rises and twists the assassin's arm more, forcing the latter to drop his dagger. Avocato picks up the dagger and thrusts it deep into the assassin's chest, through his heart.

The assassin's eye widens and gasps. He jerks as he falls. He twitches in the throes of death. Finally, his eye glosses over and he breathes his last breath.

Avocato watches impassively. He gets out of bed and pulls out the dagger. He cleans it on the assassin's shirt. He looks it over.

The hilt was bedecked in jewels. The blade was a Damascus. Avocato hums, impressed. He balances it on his hand and smirks, seeing it was perfect.

He searches the body and pulls the sheath from the assassin's boot. It was made of ash wood. Avocato sheathes the dagger and leaves his room. He enters Little Cato's room and walks over to the bed.

Avocato smiles, watching his sleeping son. He tucks the covers around him more securely. He places the dagger on his bedside table. He leans down and kisses his son's head.

Little Cato smiles in his sleep. Avocato pulls away and leaves the room. He returns to his own. He sighs, looking at the dead body.

Avocato searches the body, taking everything he deemed of value. He could sell it and give the money to his boy. He knew his son was saving up for a blaster. He'd agreed to buy him one, provided he acquired the money for one.

Avocato makes a call to get the body picked up. He knew of someone who would love to deal with a dead body. Clarence Polkawitz. He knew the guy loves collecting the skins from the dead.


End file.
